CLP & Deru Destroy Vine Bar in Hollywood
Hollywood is just ten minutes from my apartment and I arrived last night early, around 10, and DJ Howie was getting things started. I never mind being the only one on the dance floor, because that means the DJ is playing for you. People need to hire me out to start their parties, I swear.
The Vine Bar’s dance floor is tiny. Miniscule. It’s really just a bar where they turned the back room into a little stage with space for decks/laptops and a few standing speakers. But as long as there is room at the front of the dance floor for me, and there always is, I don’t give a shit.
So I start rocking out, and soon Deru goes on and the dance floor fills up. Last night Deru restored my faith in LA. Not that I had lost it, per se, but I had begun to wonder as of late: where is the music that I love? Where are my people? Where are the sounds that do it for me, that have me screaming “yeah” like a fiend, that make my eyes roll around in my skull and sweat drip from my elbows?
I found all of them last night. Deru was awesome. His music was smart AND very dance friendly, like me. I love meeting people out who know me only from this blog, and I get to watch the gears turn in their heads as they try to reconcile the fact that this blond chick going nuts on the dance floor is also a writer. What? I love busting up stereotypes.
CLP went on- I don’t know which one was CL and which was P, but they killed. That tiny little dance floor was going nuts, people falling down and shit. Screaming. Smacking people in the face with their flailing arms. What kind of music were they playing? I don’t know. GOOD music. Slamming, dance-crazy beats. When I have a hard time finding words to describe someone’s music- that means it’s good. If I can sum up an hour long mix in a three-second sentence, guess what? It sucks.
CLP did not suck, and I really don’t think the CLP mix that was posted on my Myspace profile fifteen times (and which you can find here) does them justice. The Factory Fresh mix is good, but their hybrid set last night rocked the stars and the Vine Bar, which was packed with good people. I did not meet a single asshole last night, and I was in Hollywood for the love of God. Also in the crowd- one Justin Boreta. It was one of those nights when 2AM hits and you are just like, what? Seriously? It’s over? Already?
I am inspired anew this morning through my hash browns and hangover, and have realized that although there is not the same sense of community in LA around the type of music that I love, there will be. That is why I am here.
I was having WAY to much fun dancing my face off last night to take any pictures except this one of my new friend Olivia fucking with the “Federal Protective Service: Homeland Security,” who were just cruising around protecting things. Enjoy. And turn the music UP!